The marble courtyard of Olympus felt suffocating.
Not because the air lacked oxygen, the divine atmosphere was crisp, smelling faintly of lemon, blooming laurel. It was suffocating because of the sheer, crushing weight of twelve primordial egos staring down from their monumental thrones, radiating enough divine pressure to flatten an ordinary mortal into paste.
Beside me, Jason stood completely rigid inside his leather jacket and tactical armor, the red visor of his helmet reflecting the blinding Aegean daylight.
At the apex of the central dais sat Zeus. He looked less like a benevolent ruler and more like an ancient storm waiting for an excuse to tear the sky apart. His dark hair was threaded with streaks of iron gray, his jaw set in a hard, merciless line, and in his right hand, the master bolt pulsed with jagged, subterranean thunder.
"Bring the creature forward, Caius," Zeus commanded, his voice rumbling through the colonnade like an earthquake rolling over stone.
I didn't kneel or bow.
My hand wrapped tightly around Blud's throat, I stepped forward and hurled the shriveled cult leader across the pristine white floor. Blud's emaciated body crashed hard against the steps of Zeus's dais with a wet, sickening thud, skidding across the gold-veined marble before groaning in agonizing delirium.
A heavy, stunned silence fell over the court.
Hermes paused his caduceus twirling mid-spin. Apollo's dazzling, golden smile faltered. Aphrodite took a slow sip of her nectar, her eyes glittering with malicious amusement, while Athena's storm-gray gaze hardened.
Hera leaned forward from her peacock-draped throne, her emerald eyes narrowing in sharp, aristocratic offense.
"Is this how you present yourself before your family, the rulers of creation, boy?" Hera spoke, her voice laced with venomous grace. "Have you no respect for your betters?"
"My what?" I cut her off instantly, my voice ringing cold and sharp across the courtyard. "You better finish that sentence very carefully, Queen of Olympus. Don't say 'betters,' and don't you dare say 'family.' Because none of you are either."
Hera's breath hitched in fury. "You dare—!"
"Silence, wife," Zeus rumbled, raising a single, massive hand to stay her wrath. The King of the Gods leaned his heavy forearms against his knees, looking down at me with an expression that bordered on dangerous condescension. "What your grandmother means, Caius, is that you stand within the seat of divine authority. Has Diana taught you nothing of your heritage? Did your mother fail so utterly to instruct you in the proper etiquette required when addressing royalty?"
My eyes narrowed. "No, Zeus. She didn't."
Zeus's jaw tightened, the master bolt in his hand crackling with a sudden, vicious flare of blue-white arcs. "Lord Zeus, grandson."
"No," I countered without missing a beat, taking another half-step forward. "You're the lord of a pantheon that humanity only remembers through children's myths and high school literature. You want to talk about divine dignity? You Olympians are the pettiest, most dysfunctional pack of hypocrites in the cosmos, right up there with the Norse. At least the Egyptians had the basic decency not to spend four thousand years raping, terrorizing, and impregnating the very mortals they were supposed to guide. Now pass judgment on this piece of human garbage so my friend and I can get the hell out of here."
The air pressure plummeted instantly.
The sapphire sky above the open amphitheater warped, turning the sickly, bruised purple of a gathering supercell. Arcs of static electricity danced across the polished stone beneath our boots, making the hairs on Jason's arms stand straight up through his suit.
Jason subtly nudged my elbow with his gauntlet, his modulated voice dropping to an urgent, panicked whisper over our closed comm channel. "Uh, Cai... buddy? Maybe let's not antagonize the God of the Literal Sky while we're standing directly inside his living room?"*
I ignored him. My gaze stayed locked on Zeus.
Around the semicircle, the reactions were pure theater. Dionysus leaned back on his couch, swirling a goblet of deep red wine with an entertained grin on his bearded face. Ares's seat remained empty, but Athena watched me with an eyebrow arched, her tactical mind clearly dissecting every word I spat.
Zeus stared at me for three long, agonizing heartbeats, the lightning in his hand pulsing in sync with his temper.
"So be it," Zeus rumbled softly, pointing a thick, calloused finger down at the shivering husk at his feet. "We shall address your insolence in due time. First... justice."
Zeus rose to his full height. Towering nearly eight feet tall, the King of the Gods looked down at Blud with profound, cosmic disgust.
"Sebastian Blud the Thirteenth," Zeus declared, his voice carrying the reverberating authority of divine law. "You have committed unforgivable atrocities against humanity and against the bloodlines of Olympus. You sought to siphon the sacred essence of gods to fuel your pathetic mortal vanity. You craved divine power, and so you shall have it. You shall drown in it."
Blud weakly lifted his head, his pale lips trembling as he coughed up a mixture of bile and tainted blood. "What... what gives you... the right..."
"Over the centuries, you and your predecessors have hunted, slaughtered, and bled our demigod children across the Mediterranean, stealing their divine spark to prolong your miserable lineage," Zeus stated coldly. "I, Zeus, God of Divine Justice, sentence you to eternity at the lowest trench of the River Styx. There, the burning waters of the damned shall fill your lungs. You shall drown, revive, and drown again without reprieve until the sun burns cold."
Centuries? The word echoed in my head. How long has this specific bloodline of Brother Blood been harvesting demigods?
"Brother," Zeus said, casting his gaze toward the oceanic giant on the eastern throne.
Poseidon didn't utter a word. His tempestuous sea-green eyes flashed as he struck the butt of his heavy golden trident against the marble floor.
CLANG.
A pool of pitch-black, boiling water tore open directly beneath Blud. Heavy chains forged from rusted, Stygian iron erupted from the depths like striking vipers, wrapping tightly around Blud's wrists, neck, and blood-soaked talisman.
"No... no! Please! Mercy!" Blud shrieked, his voice cracking into a high-pitched, pathetic wail as the iron dragged him downward.
The black pool snapped shut, leaving the marble pristine once more. Not a single drop of water remained.
"Well," I muttered under my breath. "I have to admit... that was pretty fitting."
Zeus turned his full, imposing attention back onto me. "Now, boy. Let us speak of your brazen disrespect. You walk into Olympus ignorant of our customs, refusing to show reverence to the throne. I have incinerated kings and shattered civilizations for far less."
"She's fine, by the way," I said casually, crossing my arms.
Zeus froze. "Excuse me?"
"Cassie," I said, letting a smirk tug at the corner of my mouth. "Cassandra Sandsmark. Your secret daughter that you've been hiding in Gateway City from Grandma Hera. She's alive, she's healthy, and she's doing just fine."
Beside Zeus, Hera's head snapped around with the speed of a striking cobra. Her emerald eyes blazed with white-hot, homicidal fury as she glared at her husband.
"You bastard," Hera hissed through clenched teeth, her peacock fan snapping in half in her grip. "Another one?!"
Zeus's face darkened, a vein bulging along his temple as he looked caught between absolute embarrassment and supreme rage. "Hera, control yourself—"
"Oh, come on, can we please stop pretending this is normal?" I interjected, waving a hand between the two of them. "Lady Hera, you've known what kind of husband he is for four thousand years. Just get a divorce! It's the twenty-first century, it's a real legal concept now. Pack your bags, take your peacocks, and go build your own pantheon or your own corner of Heaven where you don't have to spend every millennium murdering illegitimate teenagers because your husband can't keep his lightning bolt in his pants!"
A chorus of stifled reactions rippled through the amphitheater.
Dionysus let out a loud, snorting laugh, nearly choking on his wine. "Oh, by the Fates, this is getting magnificent!"
"Silence, Bacchus!" Zeus roared, the skies above Olympus turning pitch-black as thunder shook the marble foundation. He stepped off the dais, the air warping under the immense heat of his anger. "You dare speak to me of morality, mortal? You carry our blood in your veins, yet you know nothing of the divine order! You know nothing of what it takes to sustain this cosmos!"
"Calm yourself, Husband," Hera muttered coldly, though her eyes were still burning with hatred toward Zeus.
"No! He presumes to judge me?!" Zeus bellowed, towering over me. "I am the King! I am the Law! I am—"
"A pathetic, overgrown shadow of yourself," I cut him off, raising my voice to match his thunder. "You might be a king, Zeus, but you pale in comparison to the mortals who actually carried your blood. Men like Perseus. Now that was a real king. A real hero. Honestly, the fact that a man with that much honor and backbone came from your balls is the biggest divine miracle in Greek history. You're just a giant man-child who lets his dick and his fragile ego make every single decision for the universe."
The silence that followed was absolute.
Jason took a slow, deliberate step away from me, his visor fixed on the sky. "Dude..."he whispered over the comms. "You are so extraordinarily dead."
Zeus didn't yell. The fury on his face went completely cold, the kind of quiet, absolute rage that precedes the extinction of an entire species.
He raised his right arm, and the master bolt flared with blinding, apocalyptic intensity.
"THAT IS ENOUGH, FATHER!"
A booming voice shattered the tension.
Footsteps echoed heavily against the colonnade as a towering warrior stepped into the light of the courtyard.
Ares walked forward with absolute, military poise. He was clad in magnificent, battle-worn armor forged from polished Olympian gold, a heavy crimson cape billowing behind his broad shoulders. His sharp features were clean-shaven, his vibrant auburn hair cut short, and when he spoke, the thick Irish brogue he had used on Paradise Island was completely gone, replaced by the deep, resonant cadence of an ancient Spartan general.
Zeus lowered his arm slightly, his thunderbolt dimming. "Ares. You finally deign to join the council? Where have you been, my son?"
Ares halted twenty paces away, offering a dry, mocking bow. "Forgive me, Father. I went for a leisurely stroll through the mortal realms and found myself hopelessly lost sightseeing."
Zeus let out a heavy, irritated sigh, clearly sensing the sarcasm. "Enough of this madness. Ares, take your spawn and leave Olympus before I strike him down for his grotesque insolence."
My Viltrumite blood roared in my ears. The tactile field around my skin sparked with volatile gold and red kinetic energy, my muscles tensing as I prepared to launch myself directly at Zeus's throat.
Before I could move an inch, a massive, armored hand clamped down on my right shoulder with bone-crushing strength.
I spun my head, my eyes glowing with raw, crimson fury, ready to tear into whoever had touched me.
Ares stood beside me. His emerald eyes met mine—calm, quiet, and completely unyielding.
Not here, his gaze said without speaking a word. Not now.
Every instinct in my body screamed to throw a punch, to shatter the decorum and fight the King of the Gods right where he stood. But as the adrenaline spiked, my rational mind kicked in.
He's right.
I had spent the last month training against Nolan, pushing my Viltrumite strength and tactile telekinesis to levels I hadn't dreamed of before. I could probably break Zeus's nose. I might even kill Apollo or Hermes if I caught them off-guard. But there were twelve of them. Twelve immortal beings backed by magic, reality-warping domains, and centuries of collective combat experience. If I started a war on Olympus right now, Jason would die in seconds, and I would either end up in Tartarus or blasted into atomic dust.
Gods, I'm angry today, I thought, forcing myself to take a slow, controlled breath.
Between Aphrodite's subtle threats, the horrors of Blud's subterranean trafficking farm, and the overwhelming arrogance of these divine parasites, my temper had nearly driven me off a cliff.
I closed my eyes. The red glow faded from my irises, and the kinetic pressure around my skin collapsed back into my body.
"Have you calmed yourself, boy?" Ares asked quietly, his hand loosening slightly on my shoulder.
"Yeah," I muttered, staring at the marble floor. "I'm good."
Ares gave my shoulder a single, firm squeeze before releasing me. "Good. You did fine work in the Alps today. Now go. I will handle the family."
"Not so fast."
A sudden, freezing chill washed over the courtyard.
The ambient warmth of Apollo's sunlight seemed to wither as a veil of shifting shadow materialized between Jason and me. It was so fast I almost didnt recognize it. The darkness condensed, resolving into a tall, impeccably dressed man with porcelain-pale skin, sharp aristocratic features, and long, midnight-black hair cascading over his shoulders.
His appearance seemed to shift fluidly from moment to moment, one second he looked like an ancient Grecian monarch in robes of woven dusk, the next he appeared as a modern, high-society gentleman in a tailored charcoal suit.
Olympians, I noted mentally. Physical forms really are just clothes to them.
"You two will come with me," Hades spoke, his voice deep, smooth. "We have words to exchange. Merely words."
Jason instinctively ready his hand to pull his all blades, but Ares stepped between them, nodding toward the Lord of the Dead. "Go with him, Caius. Hades is a fair god. He honors his bargains."
I looked over at Jason, who gave a helpless, armored shrug. "Lead the way, Uncle," I said.
Hades raised a pale hand, tearing open a swirling vortex of pitch-black shadows in the air before us.
Jason eyed the swirling void suspiciously. "Is this a one-way ticket to the Underworld?"
Without breaking stride, Hades placed a palm against Jason's armored back and shoved him forward through the portal. "No, mortal. It leads to my favorite shop. After you, nephew."
I offered Hades a respectful nod. "Yes, sir."
Of all the gods in the pantheon, Hades was perhaps the one of the only few who actually did his job without constant drama, pettiness, or throwing temper tantrums across the mortal world. He wasn't perfect, but he possessed a work ethic the rest of Olympus severely lacked.
As I stepped toward the threshold of the portal, Zeus's booming voice echoed one last time from the dais behind us.
"Ares! Where have you truly been all these centuries?"
Ares stood tall in the center of the sunlit court, slowly unbuckling the golden clasps of his war helm. He pulled the helmet from his head, letting his clean-cut auburn hair catch the morning light, his emerald eyes locking onto his parents with profound, quiet resolve.
"I have been growing, Father," Ares replied evenly.
Hera frowned from her throne. "Growing? Growing into what?"
"Into a better man, Mother," Ares said, his voice ringing with absolute clarity across the quieted pantheon. "And into a better father. In fact... I believe it is high time this entire family began doing the same."
The shadows of the portal swallowed my vision before I could see Zeus's reaction.
Gotham City
The icy gloom of the void vanished in an instant, replaced by the rich, comforting scent of roasted espresso beans, and fresh-baked pastries.
Soft lo-fi jazz drifted from hidden ceiling speakers, perfectly complementing the gentle clinking of porcelain mugs and the quiet turning of paperback pages. Sunlight poured through floor-to-ceiling bay windows, illuminating cozy leather armchairs, exposed brick walls, and towering oak bookshelves packed with graphic novels, manga, and classic literature.
Jason took off his red helmet, looking around the expansive, multi-level café in absolute bewilderment.
"Wait a minute..." Jason murmured, scratching the back of his head. "Your 'divine office' is a trendy coffee shop in downtown Gotham?"
"It's across the street from my company," I pointed out, taking in the familiar, warm atmosphere. "Soul Coffee. One of the best spots in the city."
"Caius! Hector! Welcome back!"
A bright, melodic voice called out from behind the polished mahogany counter.
A young woman with radiant, light-caramel skin and a warm, dazzling smile leaned over the counter. Her curly dark hair was pulled into a high ponytail, framing striking storm-gray eyes. She wore a forest-green apron embroidered with the Soul Coffee logo over a simple white long-sleeve shirt.
Jason glanced sideways at Hades, raising an eyebrow. "Hector?"
Hades casually smoothed the lapel of his tailored coat, offering a faint, unbothered shrug. "What? It is a classic name."
Jason smirked. "Right. Very subtle."
I walked up to the counter, leaning against the polished wood. "Hey, Harmonie. How's everything running today?"
"It's wonderful!" Harmonie beamed, resting her chin in her hands. "And thank you so much again for matching the donations on the canned food drive. Because of Olympian Designs, we hit our entire monthly community goal in less than twenty-four hours."
"That's great to hear," I said with a genuine smile. "How are the tutoring sessions going in the back study rooms for the kids?"
"Running like a well-oiled machine," she replied enthusiastically. "The kids from the East End are making huge progress. Half of those middle-schoolers are going to be little certified geniuses by the time they hit high school."
"Good," I nodded. "Make sure you send me the final list of high school seniors who are preparing to graduate this spring. I want my foundation to handle their college applications and tuition grants."
Harmonie's eyes softened with profound appreciation. "You got it, boss. Though I have to ask... I didn't know you and Hector were acquainted outside of the shop. He's in here workibg on his laptop almost every afternoon."
"Oh, yeah," I said smoothly. "We're actually related."
Harmonie blinked, looking between my sun-kissed, bronze skin and Hades' aristocratic, porcelain complexion. A faint blush crept onto her cheeks. "Oh! I... I see the family resemblance now. My apologies!"
Hades stepped up beside me, clearing his throat politely. "Harmonie, my dear. Might we borrow private conference room thirteen for a brief discussion?"
"Of course, Hector," Harmonie said, wiping down the counter with a cloth. "Down the hall, second door on your left. It's completely yours. And don't worry, I already know the orders."
Hades opened his mouth to speak, but Harmonie cut him off with a teasing grin. "For Hector: one large dark roast, two extra shots of espresso, a pinch of cinnamon, dark chocolate, and peppermint syrup. For Caius: one large black with three shots of espresso, plus a medium iced latte with two pumps of vanilla and caramel. And for your friend..." She tilted her head, studying Jason's tired, scowling face for half a second. "...a grande cappuccino with extra foam."
Jason's eyes widened in genuine disbelief. "Wait. How did you...."
"It's all in the eyes, handsome," Harmonie winked playfully. "I'll have everything brought back to you in just a moment."
As we walked down the quiet hallway toward room thirteen, Jason leaned close to my shoulder, nudging me with his elbow. "Damn, Cai. She is exceptionally cute. You telling me you haven't made a move yet?"
"She's a hardworking, brilliant woman who manages my favorite spot in Gotham, Jay," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "Leave her alone and let's find out what my uncle wants."
We stepped into private room thirteen, a soundproofed, comfortable lounge featuring plush leather chairs, a glass coffee table, and abstract oil paintings on the walls.
We took our seats, and the moment the door clicked shut, the ambient sounds of the café faded into dead silence.
Hades leaned back in his leather armchair, steepled his long fingers, and looked directly at Jason.
"Let us dispense with the pleasantries, gentlemen," Hades began, his tone brisk and businesslike. "To alleviate your concerns, Todd: no, I have no intention of dragging your soul to the Underworld. That is Thanatos's jurisdiction. He is the God of Death, he severs the mortal coil and reaps the spirit. I am the God of the Dead. I merely manage the realm where those spirits reside after judgment."
"Unless Hermes meddles because Zeus fancied a dead mortal girl," I added dryly.
Hades let out a long, weary sigh. "Yes. Unfortunately, my brother's libido occasionally causes administrative nightmares for my scribes. However, that is not why we are here."
Jason leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Alright, Hector. What's the proposition?"
"You were granted a rare, unnatural second chance at life, Jason Todd," Hades said, his dark eyes boring into Jason's soul. "I represent an ancient, multi-pantheonic collective known across the cosmic order as the Death Dealers. We are an assembly of death deities and arbiters of justice from various mythologies who work in the shadows to maintain the universal equilibrium. Occasionally, we hunt spirits that have escaped Tartarus, Hel, or Duat. More often... we eliminate exceptionally vile mortals before their corruption stains the mortal plane beyond repair."
Jason looked over at me, his lip curling into a smirk. "Should I tell him about the name, or do you want to?"
I leaned back, crossing my arms over my chest. "Let it ride, Jay. I'm actually interested. Go on, Uncle."
Jason turned back to Hades. "And why would I sign up for this? It's not like Batman or the Justice League are going to throw me a parade for killing scumbags just because a Greek god gave me a hall pass. What's in it for me?"
Hades' expression remained utterly calm. "You will be granted complete divine sanction to hunt and eradicate child predators, human traffickers, and sadists without interference from the balance of fate. Furthermore... upon completion of your primary service, the Death Dealers will grant you the authority to resurrect one mortal soul of your choosing. Permanent life. No Lazarus Pit madness. No necrotic decay. A true, full restoration."
Jason froze. His jaw dropped slightly.
"What?" Jason breathed, the word barely a whisper.
I leaned forward, my eyes narrowing at Hades. A full resurrection from the Lord of the Dead? That's practically unheard of. The cost must be astronomical.
"Something smells rotten here, Uncle," I said, my voice dropping an octave. "The gods don't just hand out free passes from the grave. What kind of cosmic disaster slipped through your fingers that has the death gods hiring mortal hitmen?"
Jason nodded sharply in agreement. "He's right. This sounds way too good to be true. What kind of monster got out of your basement that we're supposed to clean up?"
Hades' composure slipped for a fraction of a second, his pale jaw tightening.
"A primordial, ancient force has stirred within the fabric of this reality," Hades said, his voice dropping into a solemn, grave register. "A cosmic parasite of entropy. If it is permitted to take root, it will consume all mortal life, extinguish the gods, and reduce creation to an endless, silent graveyard."
I rubbed the bridge of my nose, letting out a heavy sigh. "Who is it? Because if it's another rogue Egyptian priestess or a Mesopotamian mummy, I'm not interested. The Titans and I dealt with that crap when I was thirteen, and Donna almost got possessed because the mummy had a thing for warrior women."
Hades shook his head slowly. "The entity is known as Nekron."
My heart nearly stopped.
Nekron.
My eyes snapped wide open, my mind racing through. Oh, shit. The Blackest Night.
Jason glanced between Hades and me, instantly picking up on my reaction. "Who the hell is Nekron?"
"He's the primordial embodiment of the cosmic void," I said, my voice dead serious as I looked at Jason. "He represents the absolute darkness that existed before the universe was created. And he commands the Black Lantern Corps."
Jason's brow furrowed. "Black Lanterns? Like... Green Lanterns?"
"Yes, but infinitely worse," I explained. "Black Lantern power rings latch onto the corpses of the dead, reanimating them as twisted, hyper-powerful zombie revenants that retain all of their original powers, memories, and combat skills. They feed on emotional energy, ripping out the hearts of the living to fuel their master."
Jason rubbed his temples, letting out a rough, exhausted groan. "Oh, that's just fantastic. That's just peachy. And let me guess... you want me because of the All-Blades?"
Hades nodded. "Your All-Blades are forged from pure soul-fire. They bypass physical invulnerability and sever the metaphysical tether that binds necrotic souls to their corpses. You possess the exact weapon required to permanently destroy the heralds of the Black."
Hades leaned forward. "Do we have an accord, Jason Todd?"
Jason blew out a long breath, looking over at me. "Cai... you got my back on this?"
I nodded slowly. "We're going to have to deal with it anyway, Jay. If Nekron is moving, this is an all-hands-on-deck apocalypse. The Black Lanterns don't just dig up random graves, they reanimate dead heroes, dead villains, dead family members. It's psychological warfare on a cosmic scale."
Jason shuddered slightly. "That is going to be an exceptionally ugly war. Alright, tall, dark, and handsome. When is this Nekron asshole showing up?"
Knock, knock.
The door clicked open, and Harmonie stepped into the room carrying a polished bamboo tray loaded with three steaming mugs and a plate piled high with freshly baked pastries.
"Fresh orders, gentlemen," Harmonie said brightly, setting the mugs down in front of each of us. "And some pastries on the house for the hero of the food drive."
"You're a lifesaver, Harmonie," I said, flashing her a warm grin.
"I know," she smiled back, turning toward the door. "Let me know if you boys need anything else. Talk to you later, Cai."
"Can't wait," I said.
The door clicked shut behind her.
I picked up my coffee, taking a long sip. The rich, bold flavor hit my tongue like liquid perfection.
Hades picked up a warm pastry, taking a delicate bite before setting it down. "To answer your question, Jason... we do not know when the full invasion will commence. The entity has been moving covertly, harvesting powerful corpses from across various timelines and dimensions before retreating into the deep cosmic void."
Jason raised an eyebrow. "How is that even possible?"
"We are investigating the metaphysical breaches," Hades replied. "For now, remain vigilant. When the first herald falls, I will summon you."
I stared into the dark depths of my coffee, my tactical mind shifting through our assets across the planet.
The GDA is tied up with the H.I.V.E. aftermath. The Titans are recovering from the Alps. And the Justice League is...
I wonder how is the League right now?
Deep Space — The Orbit of Warworld
The sky above the gladiatorial planet of Warworld was bathed in a sickly, irradiated crimson glow.
Floating in the vacuum of space just above the atmosphere of the colossal, weaponized planetoid, six premier members of the Justice League stood assembled in tight formation: Superman, his red cape drifting weightlessly behind his broad shoulders; John Stewart, his Green Lantern ring blazing with brilliant emerald radiance; Wonder Woman, her golden armor reflecting the distant stars; Icon, hovering with regal, stoic intensity; Supergirl, her blue eyes burning with focused solar energy; and Hawkwoman, her Nth metal mace gripped tightly in her armored hands.
Opposing them on the opposing orbital ridge stood the terrifying vanguard of the Viltrumite- coalition.
Sinestro floated with his arms folded neatly behind his back, his yellow ring humming with absolute dread. Beside him stood Atrocitus, the colossal Red Lantern leader, crimson blood-plasma dripping continuously from his fanged maw into the vacuum, flanked by Lyssa Drak and the winged Fury, Bleez.
Standing squarely between the two factions, balanced effortlessly on the hull of an orbital dreadnought, was Battle Beast.
The colossal, white-furred alien warlord brandished his massive, double-bladed battleaxe, his yellow eyes blazing with primal, insatiable bloodlust. His fanged jaw split into a terrifying, guttural roar that echoed across open comm frequencies.
"WELCOME, MY GUESTS AND WARRIORS!" Battle Beast roared, his voice trembling with manic excitement. "SOON WE SHALL COMMENCE OUR GLORIOUS BATTLE FOR BLOOD AND CONQUEST! I CANNOT WAIT TO BE DRENCHED IN THE GORE OF WORTHY OPPONENTS!"
Wonder Woman's grip tightened around her sword hilt. "He cannot be serious."
"He is," Hawkwoman said grimly, raising her mace. "That creature is wanted in seven galaxies for the slaughter of entire planetary defense forces."
"Ten galaxies," John Stewart corrected through his comm, his ring forming a massive energy cannon. "They just took down the last three bounties because he hunted down and decapitated every mercenary company they sent after him."
Suddenly, the tension shifted entirely.
A single figure detached from the coalition ranks, drifting forward through the void with absolute, terrifying grace.
Grand Regent Thragg floated through the starfield.
He was slightly taller than Superman, his broad, immensely muscled frame clad in the pristine white-and-red regalia of the Viltrumite Empire, his royal crimson cape billowing behind him as if driven by an invisible solar wind. Power rolled off his body in suffocating, physical waves, a level of raw, unadulterated genetic perfection that made even Clark's Kryptonian senses flare in silent warning.
Thragg halted barely two feet in front of Superman, his sharp, weathered features set in a calm, regal mask.
For several agonizing seconds, the Grand Regent of Viltrum simply stared into Clark's eyes.
"You must be Kal-El of Earth," Thragg spoke, his voice smooth, resonant, and carrying absolute authority.
Kara subtly shifted her stance behind Clark, her knuckles white, while Icon crossed his arms, his golden energy humming just beneath his skin.
Thragg did not break eye contact with Superman. "Nolan and Jonathan's initial reports spoke exceptionally highly of your strength. And of your leadership qualities. Truly... very fitting for the noble legacy of the House of El."
Thragg extended his right hand.
Superman looked at the hand for a fraction of a second, his expression guarded, before reaching forward and taking it in a firm grip.
"Thank you," Superman replied evenly. "You are familiar with the House of El?"
"I am," Thragg said. His grip around Clark's hand tightened slightly. "I had the privilege of meeting a high-ranking member of your house several centuries ago. A strong-willed man. Exceptional intellect. But soft-hearted. A rare trait for your people."
Superman felt the initial squeeze of Thragg's fingers. He matched the pressure, his own jaw setting firmly. "Why was that rare?"
Thragg's smile never faded, but the pressure in his hand surged exponentially, a bone-crushing, force that began testing the absolute limits of Clark's invulnerability.
"Because the ancient Kryptonians were an advanced, supreme civilization," Thragg said softly, leaning an inch closer, his dark eyes boring into Clark's soul. "And like any truly advanced civilization... they understood the necessity of expansion. Of conquest, and carving their empire across the cosmos."
Thragg's grip tightened further, the sheer hydraulic force of his evolved perfected Viltrumite physiology creating a localized gravitational shudder between their locked grips.
"Tell me, Clark..." Thragg whispered, his expression remaining completely effortless as he squeezed against the Man of Steel's hand. "You seem like a calm, reasonable man. Are you truly a calm, reasonable man? Or are you merely holding yourself back... afraid to let your true nature out? And who knows..."
Thragg's eyes flashed with absolute, unyielding dominance.
"...perhaps deep down, you are a conqueror just like Conquest. Just like me."
Superman's eyes narrowed into slits of burning blue steel. He braced his core, focusing more of his strength, and squeezed back against the Grand Regent's powerful grip not intending to lose.
But Thragg didn't flinch. He didn't even blink.